Maybe on Movie Monday
by pajammies
Summary: Jim can't cry during Titanic. Pam wants to know why. One shot.


Movie Monday was Michael's idea of an easy segue way into the work week. As each worker walked in, one by one, Michael would jump out of his office (startling them of course), flaunting some DVD in their face and waving it back and forth like a little child who just got 100 on a spelling test. He loved the appreciation on the employees faces at the end of a great scene, and their looks of anticipation at a cliffhanger. Of course, he was too impatient to make them actually wait for the cliffhanger. That's why Movie Monday was usually the entire Monday, with breaks only for lunch and conference calls with David Wallace. "Movie Monday is probably my greatest idea ever. It is probably anyone's greatest idea ever," he would say proudly before he announced the movie of the day.

Michael was always too excited about the movie to see that the rest of the office really didn't care. Well, actually, they _did _care—they cared that they were missing work and losing commission to sit in a conference room and watch the entire first season of the Golden Girls. And the week before that, it was Pulp Fiction. If you think it might be awkward to watch sex scenes and transvestites at work with your boss, well, you'd be totally right. But the icing on the cake was really when Michael brought in his home videos from his childhood, only to put it on and realize that he and Jan had taped over it with a disturbing School Boy role play. So yeah, that was actually more awkward then Pulp Fiction.

Today Michael seemed to have gone for a more conservative route: Titanic. Of course, the nudity drawings caused Kevin's jaw to drop, saying "Niiice," but at least the story was pretty wholesome. Over three hours later, as pretty much everyone reached for the tissue box, it seemed that the audience was about to hop on board for Movie Monday. Kelly was sobbing and had to excuse herself to fix her mascara, and even Stanley seemed to have a glint in his eye. Pam was tearing up, very quietly, and next to her, Jim was deciding whether to watch the remaining ten minutes or to watch Pam cry and maybe, just maybe, wipe some of her tears. As the credits rolled, everyone started to file out.

"Hey, can you wait a minute with me while I gather myself?" Pam asked Jim. "I don't want Dwight to ask if I'm PMSing again."

Jim smiled at her request. Of course he would wait with her, of course he would stay even for just a minute to be alone with her. He playfully joked with her "What's the matter, Beasly, you sad that such a nice diamond went to waste?"

"Yeah, that's it," she said, giggling between her sniffles.

"Oh, you're such a crybaby."

"OK, you can't tell me that movie wasn't sad. Maybe if you had a heart, you would be crying like Michael right now."

"C'mon Beasly, you know I don't have a heart. And as far as I know, there is no Wizard of Oz around here to give me one"

She was laughing now, and he was glad that he could be the one to exchange her tears for laughter, her sadness for giggles. He had to concede to her laughing.

"Okay, I will agree with you. It was a sad movie."

"Yes! Well why aren't you crying then?"

He raised his eyebrows at her, crossed his arms, and then said in a deep voice "Boys don't cry, Pamela."

"Yeah, _boys_ don't cry, but men in touch with their feelings do."

"Ouch!"

She laughed again.

"Hey, I mean, I said it was sad! I agree with that. I just don't see why you would cry over fictional people. I mean, if that situation happened to me in real life, of course I would cry. But honestly, the whole thing is made up, so why cry at something that's not real?"

"You don't think their love was real?" Pam wondered.

"I do. But it was real within it's fictional context, if that makes any sense."

"You're getting very Literature 101 on me, Jim," she said, laughing again. "But seriously, outside of the movie, do you think that love could ever exist? That's partly the reason why I cry, I wonder if it's all make believe or it's all just something I'm missing out on. Like, I guess what I'm trying to say is that I know these movies are made up, but I wonder if a love that strong could ever _actually_ exist these days."

Jim looked at her intently, wondering if she was trying to convey to him her uncertainty about Roy, whether or not she was giving him the green light to make a move. Or whether or not she was just babbling on, regurgitating something that an old cynical friend might have told her in college.

"Well I think it definitely does. In fact, I know it does."

He _did_ know it existed. He was staring right at it, practically holding its hand. There was this thing called love, this magical energy everyone talked about, all collected within this one beautiful being. He wasn't sure if it was possible to love anyone more, and he was confident that he loved Pam a hundred times more than Jack loved Rose. It scared him how much he loved her, how each day that they didn't talk felt like the worst day of his life over and over again. How when he looked at her, he had to physically restrain himself from touching her, as if there were magnets in his fingertips that attracted to her energy. How he could just sit and talk with her all day, not even doing anything else, just talking. How when he'd see her with Roy and his whole life would stop, and his heart would sink down to his feet, and sometimes even lower. And most of all, how when he saw her crying, he could think of nothing more important than taking her pain away.

"You _know _it does? That's pretty definitive!"

"Well, what can I say, when you know something is real you can just feel it."

"So then you must have experienced it before. Or at least seen it."

"You could say that."

"Who? Katie?" Pam knew that it couldn't be Katie; she was just asking to keep the conversation going. She wanted to know everything about Jim, and that especially included this love of his life that apparently had captivated him so much.

Jim went silent. He didn't like where this conversation was headed, how they had gotten to such a serious ground so quickly. He stared into her eyes, with the precision of a laser, trying to figure out if she was ready to hear what he had to say, trying to figure out if he was even ready to say what he had to say. He knew once he said it there would be no going back. There wouldn't be any of these playful moments, the joking around and the making fun. She would forever see him as the guy who was head over heels, "Titanic" in love with her, when they had never even kissed. He looked at her even harder, if that was possible, and all of his energy was focused on keeping that gaze. His hands went limp, his mouth curled out of it's sly smile and into a pout laced with sadness and truth. He had to say something now, _anything_, because now this little staring contest was turning awkward.

"Jim?"

Now or never, he thought. This is it. This is my chance. Do it. Just say it. The commands to himself echoed in his head, and soon the voices were too loud to concentrate.

"You."

"What?"

Oh god, he thought. I had stared at her so long that she probably forgot the question. It was so much harder to say the entire thought out loud instead of just one word, but now that he had started, he had to finish. He had to just tell her how he felt.

"I know that love exists because of you."

Pam looked caught off guard, as if she was never expecting the man that made her laugh, that looked out for her, and that hung out with her every day to say this. She brought her hand up and admired her engagement ring, the sparkling diamond reflecting in her eye and started to smile.

"Oh, Thanks, Jim!"

Now Jim was caught off guard. He had played the situation out a million times in his head, going over every possible answer she could ever give him, but he never imagined her saying "Thanks." That wasn't exactly the typical response to someone confessing their undying love for you. He was trembling now. Was "Thanks" just supposed to mean, "thanks for the uplifter!" or "thanks for giving me confidence in myself?" Was it just an overly polite way of turning him down?

"Umm..for what?"

"Well the movie was making me doubt my relationship. I wasn't sure if I was making the right choice marrying Roy, because, well, what we have is a little bit short of Jack and Rose. But the fact that you see that Roy and I have a true love means so much to me." She started tearing up. "Thanks again Jim. It really means a lot to know that you have confidence in me. I trust you more than anyone."

She grabbed his hand with both of hers, with a sincerity that said she was truly thankful for his opinion, her left hand on top with the diamond ring. It was like looking to the sun, Jim thought. Don't look directly at it, don't look directly at it. But he couldn't stop himself from looking. It pierced through him, the white light reverberating inside him and scorching his blood, the sharp cut edges slicing his heart. And like someone looking directly at the sun for too long, he started to tear up.

Pam didn't seem to notice, as she walked out of the room to her desk with a skip in her step. Jim stayed behind, with his hands in his pockets as his eyes continued to glass over. She dialed something on the phone, and stood by her desk as if waiting for someone. Jim continued to stand in shock at how she could be so naïve to think that he was telling her he thought her and Roy had the perfect relationship. He wasn't sure how long he stood there in utter disbelief, but it must have been enough time for Roy to come up from the warehouse and for Pam to wrap his arms around him and kiss him, hard, in the office. He sat down in the back row, the same seat where he had watched the movie (or, more accurately, Pam). He wished that he could go back in time, take back everything he said. He still meant it of course, but it had apparently come out the wrong way. He wished that this was a dream, or that this whole thing was just a fictional story and he was watching it on the big screen. But he knew it was real. He put his head in his hands, and this time, he started to cry.


End file.
